Translation:The Horse (Pushkin)
Appearance
For other versions of this work, see The Horse (Pushkin).
The Horse
"My ardent horse, why are you neighing?Why are you hanging your neck?Why do you not shake you mane,Not nibble your bit?Do I not care for you?Or don't you eat enough oats?Is your harness not beautiful?Is your rein made not of silk?Are your shoes not of silver?Are your stirrups not of gilt?"
The sad horse answers:"I am so quiet becauseI hear the distant trample,Sound of trumpet and arrow's song;I am neighing because there is not Time left for me to walk in the fields,To live in glory and careAnd show my bright harness;Because soon the cruel enemyWill take all my harness,And will tear my silver shoes awayFrom my weightless feet;My soul moans becauseInstead of the horse-clothHe will cover my sweaty sidesWith your own skin."
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